Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Malta and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Techniques to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare,
Eve St. Jones,
Cybotron,
Adolescents,
The Dirtbombs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Can,
Pylon,
Harry Pussy,
cv313,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Boredoms,
Carl Craig,
Masters at Work,
The Standells,
The New Christs,
The Electric Prunes,
Trumans Water,
Pussy Galore,
John Holt,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Niagra,
The Sisters of Mercy,
DNA,
the Swans,
Cluster,
Piero Umiliani,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Technova,
Ituana,
Bill Wells,
Marvin Gaye,
T. Rex,
Animal Collective,
Youth Brigade,
Sun Ra,
The Smoke,
Thompson Twins,
The Wake,
ABBA,
Faraquet,
Bootsy Collins,
Soul II Soul,
Skaos,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Divine Comedy,
New Age Steppers,
Roy Ayers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jacob Miller,
Tubeway Army,
Bad Manners,
Arthur Verocai,
Talk Talk,
Newcleus,
Peter & Gordon,
Pagans,
Motorama,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.